Turning Red
by midwifeonboard
Summary: Helen Magnus was trying to avoid the explosive tendencies of her classmates. Written for the sfaflashfic Challenge #1: First Times, on LJ


A shadow fell over her work just as she was about to pour a rather caustic reagent into her solution. She glanced up from her bench to give the creator of said shadow a piece of her mind. "Excuse me…"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I don't think you want to do that."

Helen Magnus froze, burette in hand, poised over the beaker in anticipation of what she hoped would be a subtly spectacular reaction. "I beg your pardon."

"I couldn't help but watch you mix the reagent. You have too much sulfuric acid, and I would hate to see such beauty burned by carelessness."

Helen sputtered, searching for words. Of all the unmitigated gall! She had spent six very long hours calculating the amounts of the various chemicals needed to produce this formula. She may not be a matriculated student, but she was smarter than the large majority of the men who deigned to allow her space in the lab. A muffled boom and a surprised cry from a bench to her right caused her to turn. There, one of the young gentlemen attempting the same experiment was clutching his cheek while another was putting out the flames on his frock coat.

"The amount you used was only slightly more than you need, I assure you."

Helen took a breath and set the burette carefully back onto the rack. "And just how would you know?" The man had a slightly suspect smile, but Helen was a scientist above all, and was willing to hear him out.

"I have been watching you."

Helen waited, silent, for the awkward little man with the chip on his shoulder to continue.

"If you had mixed the acid into the reagent last, the color would have changed sooner, and you would have the right balance."

Helen nodded, the gears in her mind turning until she saw exactly what he was getting at. She hated to admit it, but he was correct. "Yes, yes. I see. I knew the color was off, but I couldn't be sure why." She shook her head. "Of course. Thank you."

"It is always my pleasure to aid a lady."

The gentleman walked away, and Helen sought to dispose of her unused chemical composition. "I'd be careful of him if I were you."

"John." Helen started. "You really oughtn't sneak up on one like that."

"I don't like the way he looks at you."

Helen bristled. "I don't think that is your concern." Her back became stiff and her heart started beating rapidly. It was true that John had been paying court to her for several weeks, but a quarter of an hour in her father's drawing room twice a week hardly gave him the right to act as though he was her protector. She could protect herself.

"Helen," he chided gently. "Just be careful. He's a foreigner. We don't know anything about him."

She softened, "I know. But he was absolutely correct and kept me from making a disastrous mistake."

John placed a hand on her shoulder. "So terrible then?"

"I should have seen it."

An explosion sounded behind them and they jumped. "The third one," John noted.

"It could have been me." They both turned to look at the young man with a singed right sideburn.

"It would have been a shame," John gently fingered her hair.

She pulled back. The impropriety would not go unnoticed if he continued, and she did not want to do anything to jeopardize her position here. "John," she scolded.

"I apologize. Most ungentlemanly of me."

Helen noted a glint in his eyes that hadn't been there before, and it made her feel quite warm. She'd be more than happy to have that look directed at her when they were alone. "Speak to my father," she murmured.

He nodded once, briefly, and left her side to dispose of his own chemicals.

Helen could protect herself from any unwanted attentions here at Oxford, but her reputation couldn't withstand John's flirtations with the boundaries of propriety. She was already seen as eccentric for her constant presence at the University, the last thing she needed was for people to call her a lightskirt. If he wanted leave to act as a serious suitor, he had to seek her father's permission first.

She returned to her bench and set about to mix her reagent again and avoid the explosive tendencies of her lab-mates. When she added it, drop by drop to the solution in her beaker, clouds of pure steam emerged followed by the changing of the color from clear to a deep blood red. It was beautiful. And deadly. Helen smiled.

"Yours is even more spectacular than mine. Felicitations."

Helen looked over at the odd little man who had reappeared at her side. "Thank you."

"It's only the truth."

She smiled.

"I'd have never expected to be outdone by a woman."

Helen sighed. If she had a ha-penny for every time she'd heard that, she'd be a wealthy— wealthier— woman.

"I mean no offense," the young man spoke quickly. "Man or woman, it makes no difference. To be matched as a scientist intrigues me. It's rare that I meet someone who can challenge me, and I am rather pleased to see that of all the men here, _you_ are the one I believe will be my greatest competition." He thrust out his hand, greeting her as he would any man. "Nikola Tesla."

Helen grasped his hand, strangely flattered by the gesture. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tesla. I am Helen Magnus."

"Yes, I know. I am delighted to know you Miss Magnus. May we spend the coming years challenging each other to greater scientific heights."

Helen laughed, a full throaty sound, before dropping the man's hand and returning to her work. She had no doubt this strange foreigner would challenge her quite a bit in the months and years to come. This was only the slightest taste, to be sure. But the next time, she would be the one to best him, of that she was certain.


End file.
